


Façades

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:05:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wheeljack/Ratchet - Gettin' off your duff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ratchet smirked as yet another group of bright opticed trainees edged around them, clearly trying not to come into contact with Wheeljack. “Clearly your fearsome reputation strikes again.” The medic said as the new troops hurried away.

Wheeljack snickered. “I worked hard to gain that rep you know. Don't give it away.” It had always surprised the engineer that so few mechs had ever caught on to the game he was playing.

Jazz, and his second Mirage, had been the ones to start the entire thing off. A few words in the right audial units and a couple of spectacular explosions later and his reputation was firmly in place. Wheeljack. Mad inventor. Prone to fits of genius that often lead to something going boom. Also potentially likely to spontaneously combust.

It was a perfect reason for no mech to ever enter his lab. Not unless they had very thick armour and a lot of faith in Primus. That made it a perfect place for him to store, test and tinker with weaponry and gadgets that eventually would end up in the hands of special operations.

In fact, his reputation was so firmly set now that he could go for several cycles without exploding anything and mechs wouldn't notice.

Well, most of them wouldn't.

Prowl had confronted him about the apparently logical cyclic schedule that his explosions occurred in. He had quickly been briefed and let in on the secret. The explosions were even less predictable now.

Red Alert had found out the same way he found everything out sooner or later. His infernal security system recording details best left unseen. Since then security cameras had been deemed too unsafe for putting up in Wheeljack's lab.

And then there was the medic. Heh. Such a simple thing to overlook. That the medic would easily be able to tell that his wounds weren't exactly legitimate.

That had been an interesting conversation to say the least. Until Ratchet had actually had the audacity to clip him over the helm with a wrench of all things for trying to pull a quick one on him. Too bad that he had gained his own reputation from that small bit of revenge.

“You know, what would happen if you ever wanted a mech to see past your... disguise.” Ratchet asked as he leant against the wall, the ever present wrench spinning idly in one hand.

Wheeljack had wondered about that when Jazz had first approached him, but at the time it had seemed far in the future, when war was but a rumble on the horizon.

But now, the one mech he wanted to see through his disguise only knew about the top layer, he was still merely seeing a different facade underneath. 

“I suppose I'd just have to show them the _real_ me.” Wheeljack finally replied as he stepped into Ratchet's personal space, feeling the edges of his electromagnetic field curl around his outer armour.

“Jack? What are...” Ratchet didn't get any further as Wheeljack made his move.

Unnoticed and forgotten, a wrench clattered to the ground.


	2. Bonus Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Scene written as blackmail, I mean, as a gift. *nod nod*

Across the flagship of the newly commissioned Ark three mechs received a summons. There was no urgent demand, no sense of imminent danger, yet all three converged on the security center at a brisk pace.

Red Alert could be very succinct when he wanted to be. 'Wheeljack finally making his move on Ratchet' was bound to get their attention.

“Well?” Red Alert smirked as Jazz slid into the chair beside him, his silver and blue shadow leaning over the back in the same way Prowl was leaning across his own shoulder. He had already wound the footage back, all he had to do was trigger it to play.

It didn't disappoint.

Three heads bent forwards as Ratchet asked a question and Wheeljack turned, indecision lighting his helm indicators for a moment before he stepped in.

His arms slid around the medic, one creeping up towards the back of Ratchet's helm as he leant forward, his blastmask drawing back.

Ratchet froze.

The wrench clattered to the ground before he moved, his hands both stopping the engineer from pulling away. Not that he seemed to have any intention of going anywhere. At least, not anytime soon. One of the red hands even had the audacity to wrap around one of the indicators and hold Wheeljack in place.

Again, there hadn't been any complaint.

At least, not until another mech had happened to turn into that corridor and had taken offence at the wandering hands which were now rather indecently placed.

Red Alert held out his palm, his smirk just getting bigger as he glanced at all his collaborators, "they went to Jack's lab."


End file.
